AfricanKelli

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I have two friends who are new moms and have been saving their baby food jars for me. I have a vision of making a path of tea light luminaries through my garden this winter. In the meantime, we are all about celebrating autumn, pumpkins and cooler weather for the time being. $4 later, I have treats for today’s staff meeting. Jars of Renewal recycled jar count: 40+.

~K

P.S. If you are thinking about the holidays, buying small, supporting artisans and local business — check out Funky Finds. Jess does such a fantastic job with finding the coolest handmade stuff online. If you have a second, check out the site and drop her a line. She is a great girl in need of some much deserved support.

“Time plays like an accordion in the way it can stretch out and compress itself in a thousand melodic ways. Months on end may pass blindingly in a quick series of chords, open-shut, together-apart; and then in a single melancholy week may seem like a year’s pining, one long unfolding note.”

“I’m reminded of how Mum’s collies used to greet me on the lawn when I’d come home from a term away at school. They’d never jump up; they were too well trained. They’d yip and circle me, not the predatory way they circled the sheep, but with an inquisitive enthusiasm, waiting for me to roll down in the grass and invite them to lunge, wrestle, and lick me. My parents might have had money, loved each other, loved me and my brothers, but it was the loyalty of those smart beautiful dogs, when I was young, that made my home feel like the safest place in the world.”

“I was in the shop well before opening time, browsing self by shelf through new fiction, to see which not-so-new fiction I must relegate to the less prominent novels & stories shelves. Because of that dreary human predilection for the shiny and new, I always feel when I make this shift as if I’m sending so many bright, hopeful creatures out to pasture before their youth is spent. Though I would never condemn them, as other shops do, to a section entitled literature, a word which to my admittedly over-schooled mind is ossified and clubby. I picture a mausoleum, filled with sagging armchairs and lamps that cast inadequate, jaundiced light.”

I’ve been curled up on the couch with the door and windows open, cool Fall weather keeping me company as I knit my latest market bag and savor “Three Junes.” These quotes don’t do the story justice; I am weary of giving any clues. This is one of the most well-written books I’ve ever read, and these quips are just a few that spoke to me for one reason or another. Julia Glass’ words flow so poetically from the page, I found myself telling a stranger in a coffee shop this week, “This is art on paper!” (Ever the poet, I’m not.)
I am allowing myself short bursts of reading so I don’t finish it too quickly. Her words blend together beautifully. I hope these yarns, when felted, will do the same.

~K

A Twitterer I follow (okay, the language for that site is just nuts. Twitterer makes just as much sense as Tweet or Twit.) mentioned the other day that she prefers beer and a game of pool to wine and art. It made me stop and think. Where do I fall on that scale? I’m not opposed to pool or hanging out with those drinking beer, but I certainly would prefer a nice glass of wine and a tour through a gallery. Is one low-key and the other snotty, as implied? This sort of categorical stuff drives me nuts. I don’t want to fit neatly into either box. I’d prefer to be able to bounce between social situations and have fun wherever I’m at.
Do you ever find yourself being shoved into a label that just doesn’t fit?

When we were in Mexico a couple weeks ago, I fell in love with a bottle. Specifically, a bottle of Mexican tequila that I swear is a rubenesque version of a Diego Rivera painting. I thought it was so fitting that the national booze would be linked with one of their cultural heroes. Perhaps after a bit too long at the Tequila Center, I made this apparently very clear to my friends. This included clutching the bottle and giving an art lesson to a slightly amused bartender who made a fortune pouring for our group. It was no surprise last night I was gifted with this very bottle. Isn’t it interesting? (Yep, kinda like Nacho Libre, everyone else thinks I’m a little nuts.)

So, the birthday was a raging success and there is no way I’m going to get to everyone’s sweet comments this week. Thank you! A thousand times over, thank you. I have a lot of great things planned for this year, including sprucing up the blog, traveling, and writing the next novel. I also see margaritas in my immediate future. Thanks Diego! Thanks for coming along for the ride!

Cheers,
Kelli

In honor of my brave mama being stronger than I can imagine 29 years ago today, (at the ripe age of 24) — a list of adventures, joys and lessons that have so far made this wild ride incredibly enjoyable:

1. My family. From my Aunt Karen in Pennsylvania to my Grandma Max in Tucson, I am one of the lucky ones who has a family I not only like to spend time with, but truly love.

2. Watching the sunrise over Machu Picchu. I’ll never forget the majesty of this mountainous climb.

3. Swimming. I often feel part-fish. Rivers, lakes, oceans — I love to be in the water.

4. My girlfriends. I’ve got some of those amazing friendships that make me shake my head with disbelief, they are just that good. The give and take of friendship can often be complicated, but thankfully I’ve got some patient, loving and gifted girls who regularly remind me they love me and encourage me to be better.

5. Dogs. Even though those silly dog rescue people didn’t show up last week, I’m getting a dog. That’s my birthday gift to myself. Before the year’s end I’m going to have a four-legged friend sharing the bed.

6. My church. I’ve finally found a place where I feel at home, but still challenged to keep learning. I simply love this congregation.

7. Pumpkins, may they be in bagels, lotions or candles — they remind me of Fall. Fall in Phoenix is sweet dessert after the brutal summer.

8. Cooks Illustrated magazine. It is my favorite thing to read each month, hands down.

9. The New York Times magazine. It is my favorite thing to read each Sunday morning, preferably over a hot cup of tea from a patio perch.

10. Writing. Novels, articles and this blog — it doesn’t matter what form, I feel creatively challenged putting pen to paper.

11. New Fall clothing.

12. Sew-alongs.

13. Amy Butler.

14. Snarkiness.

15. Riding my bike to work.

16. Mixed CDs. This is still my very favorite gift to receive, perhaps second only to a flight somewhere new.

17. Bolivia. I love the people, culture, music, food and way of life.

18. My friendship with my brother. It’s something relatively new and I am so glad as adults we are this close. I look forward to the day we live closer to each other and can raise our families together.

19. Griffin House. I feel like he writes music with me in mind. Seeing him in concert was incredible. Salty Senor has good taste.

20. Africa. The people, the simplicity of life, the wildness and the complete and total insanity of day-to-day existence. I feel my most useful and spiritual when I’m working on the dark continent.

21. Visiting the Cape of Good Hope.

22. Going to Prince concerts with my mom. She is an avid Prince fan and while this embarrassed the tar out of me during my adolescence, it just cracks me up as an adult.

23. Domesticity! Learning to sew, craft, knit, cook, garden and the true joy I receive from the craft blog world.

24. Public health. I love my field. I feel like this (and writing) are what I am meant to do and having that sense of purpose is an incredible stroke of luck.

25. Reading. My new current love is “Three Junes.” It is art on paper. I am reading it slowly to savor every word.

26. Flying through the Costa Rican jungle with Emily and John.

27. Mexico. I feel at home in this beautiful, culturally-rich country.

28. Giving gifts. This is one of the simple joys of life that makes me silly happy, including cooking for others.

29. Javier Bardem. Yum.

Life is good.

~K

{In my last post on faith, I received several very thoughtful comments — including one from Crumpet. She mentioned being an atheist and feeling like she regularly had to defend her choices. I am a United Methodist and sharing my faith is very new and pretty frightening. I think a person’s relationship with their faith is as unique and intimate as life develops. My faith is right for me, but certainly not for others. In writing about spirituality, I’d like to emphasize one essential point that has kept me from ministry — I don’t believe in evangelizing. I don’t think of Christianity as being superior to other faiths; it is, however, just right for me. I’d like to encourage readers to discuss their beliefs, how they’ve developed and how they’ve been influenced. I love learning from others.}

At church yesterday, the sermon focused on dreams and how being in tune with our desires for the future can providing “poetic possibilities.” Ever the list-maker, goal-setter and dreamer, I pulled out a pen and took a couple of notes. I believe that my dreams for the future (family, close relationship with friends, garden, animals, etc) have been placed in my heart by God. The direction of my professional life has certainly be guided by my faith and, finally, I’ve reached a point of maturity where my faith is also providing guidance to my personal relationships.
Pastor Jeff, who is also my friend and confidant, said the prerequisites for vision include a need to be open, vulnerability and discernment. Ultimately, we need to be willing to listen, put ourselves in situations that force us to learn and determine our priorities in life. Love, moral excellence and generosity were listed as examples.
“Everyone can be great because everyone can serve. Faith is found in forgiving, empowering and gracious love.”

I consider myself pretty forgiving, although I have a tipping point that makes me absolutely furious and unwilling to continue relationships. I am rarely pushed to this ugly place, but it certainly occurs and did his weekend. Moral excellence is a tricky one because who sets the bar? Is there a specific moral memo that didn’t cross my desk? I try to follow the golden rule and be kind, but I’ve been known to honk in traffic and drop the F bomb when provoked.

The beauty of my faith is that while I am regularly reminded of the ways I can grow and improve, I am equally reminded that I am forgiven. It is a beautiful balance.

What do you believe? Why?

~Kelli